


The Old Blood Awakened

by Kaylee no Valerian (KayleeArafinwiel)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Kushiel's Legacy - Jacqueline Carey
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Mother-Daughter Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 00:44:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayleeArafinwiel/pseuds/Kaylee%20no%20Valerian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter AU, crossover with Kushielverse (Jacqueline Carey). Among the magical denizens of France, those of the Old Blood, the scions of the Land of the Angels, are still remembered with fondness. Naamah's line strikes true in those called veela nowadays - and not just within old Terre d'Ange's borders any longer. Her newest Servant is born of Alba's seed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Old Blood Awakened

**Author's Note:**

> This is a crossover of Harry Potter and Kushiel's Legacy. The characters are not mine; they belong to J.K. Rowling and Jacqueline Carey respectively. The song Fleur sings was written by me, though I don't have a tune for it, so until someone makes one for me you're welcome to think up your own, lol.

“What is that, _Maman_?” Seven-year-old Victoire Weasley peeked around her mother’s arm, eyes widening slightly as she caught sight of the cover. _Tres Milles Joies –_ Three Thousand Delights. Fleur hastily shoved the book aside, smiling faintly as she noted her daughter’s interest.

“Ah, _ma fille._ I ought to have known you would be the one to take after me,” she said, drawing the little girl to her side. Despite having Bill’s red hair, in all other ways she was certainly Fleur’s daughter, a Delacour through and through, and Fleur stroked the child’s hair gently. “You are my eldest after all, sweetling, my heir. So.” She lifted Victoire onto her lap and curled an arm around her. “You have wondered, I think, why we do not see your _grand-mere_ and _grand-pere_ so often, _oui?_ We stay here, in England, out of sight, out of mind. But it is you, I think – not your brother, not your sister – who will follow me. We are of the Old Blood.”

“Veela,” Victoire nodded, though she sounded uncertain. She wasn’t sure that was what her _maman_ meant, and indeed, Fleur shook her head with a smile.

“ _Non, petite cherie._ That is not all there is to us. This blood, it comes through my _grand-mere,_ yes, but perhaps you do not understand where the _veela_ come from, just yet _.”_ She began to rock Victoire, humming softly to her daughter, and Victoire hummed along to the now-familiar tune, a nursery lullaby Fleur had often sent her to sleep with. But this time, the words, when they came, were different, and Victoire listened carefully. It was French, still, but a few of the words – names, she thought – were ones she didn’t recognise. They struck a chord of memory somewhere, but she could not place them.

_“Eisheth, hear me, O hear me,_

_I light my candle to you tonight_

_Give me a child, blood of my blood_

_A daughter to bring into the light_

_Naamah, let our passions awaken_

_Let us come together this holy night,_

_By our union, accept this worship,_

_Let this act be blessed in your sight_

_Anael, make this night fruitful,_

_Azza, open the straight way,_

_Camael, give us protection,_

_Cassiel, keep us bonded always._

_Shemhazai, let us know our seed_

_Kushiel, bless us in our pain_

_Elua, Son of Yeshua,_

_Let our child follow your train.”_

 

Such were the words she sang, and Victoire frowned, uncomprehending. She leaned into Fleur’s embrace. “What is it, _Maman_?” she asked eventually. “I do not understand.”

 

“We are D’Angeline, _cherie._ We spring from the blood of Elua Himself. You understand now _?”_

 

“I thought Blessed Elua was just a story,” Victoire said as the memory surfaced. “No one else ever heard of him, when I asked – even Papa.”

 

Fleur gave Victoire a mildly exasperated look. “Oh, William has heard of him. He just does not believe.” She tucked her arm more securely around her daughter, and began to tell the tale once more – how Yeshua ben Yosef’s blood had spilled on the ground, watered by the Magdalene’s tears, Mother Earth succoured the child of the Son of the One God in Her womb until He was ready to come forth, and how the One God turned from his mortal grandson, who carried blood of the Divine but would die one day…she related how eight of the angels of the One God’s Heaven abandoned their appointed tasks to follow Blessed Elua on His journey, and how they had founded Terre d’Ange. “We are Naamah’s scions. Her blood is our blood,” Fleur said softly, as she related the story, and Victoire listened intently, wide-eyed. “Even so does our beauty come – from Naamah, the Angel of Passion, who lay with the King of Persia to buy her lord’s freedom, enchanting him with her fair form.”

 

"Papa calls me his angel," Victoire said around a yawn, and Fleur laughed.

 

"Mm. Even so, you are. But I am his first. Now, then. I think it is time for _ma petite cherie_ to be in bed. _Oui_?"

 

"Will you tell me more, _Maman_?" Victoire asked, and Fleur nodded.

 

"Soon. Now, off to bed with you."

 

" _Bonne nuit, Maman_."

 

_"Bonne nuit, ma cherie."_

 

As Victoire scampered off to bed, Fleur retrieved the book. _Well, now I shall have to speak with William about our eldest._ She doubted he'd be ready for that.

 

The End (or is it?)

 

**Author's Note:**

> I may continue this, if it's good enough. I'm fairly new to crossovers in Kushielverse, so any encouragement and/or constructive criticism (not flames or insults) are welcome.


End file.
